No More Coffee
by LinZE
Summary: Joseph helps Clarisse deal with the repercussions of a single cup of coffee. A touch angsty but with a good dose of fluff and a dash of comedy.


**NO MORE COFFEE**

**Disclaimer: **anything you remember likely belongs to Meg Cabot or Disney.

It was engagements like this that Clarisse enjoyed the most about being a former Queen. She and Joseph had opened a fundraising fete being run by the Pyrus branch of the Brownie and Cub associations. She had cut the ribbon and said a few words to welcome the large number of people who had gathered before 'working the room', as her husband termed it. Joseph had headed out towards the field next to the church hall where the boys' group were running a variety of stalls and games in order to raise funds for the Orphanage, while she was seated at one of a number of circular tables around the hall, waiting to be served tea, coffee and home-baking.

Clarisse had always enjoyed spending time with children and there was something entirely endearing about the Brownies. Sometimes, she wished that she had had at least one girl. It was not that she didn't love the boys, but it felt that there was a whole swathe of parent-child type experiences that she had missed out on. Sitting here surrounded by these seven and eight year-old girls, all wearing carefully pressed uniforms, and running around playing waitress, she let herself momentarily regret having missed-out on so much of Mia's childhood. She was brought out of her thoughts when the young girl who had asked ten minutes ago whether she would like tea or coffee returned, a look of extreme concentration on her face as she obviously tried terribly hard to keep the tray she was carrying steady. It was all part of the badge, she had bee informed by one of the group's leaders. The girls who had helped organise the fundraising coffee-morning and were now playing waitress, were all working towards their Hostess badges. She smiled at the child and took the china cup and saucer from the tray before its contents were spilled."Thank you," she said with a smile, as the girl bobbed in an awkward curtsey and retreated quickly to her group of friends who had just delivered cups to the rest of the women at the table, and bursting into a fit of giggles.

The noise of the activities taking place outside drifted through the open doors and windows and if Clarisse stretched a little, she could see Joseph  
playing some sort of game with a number of the Cubs. He was laughing, and that fact in itself as well as the heat of the summer sun flooding the room, warmed her thoroughly.

"Milk or sugar, your Majesty?" one of the Brownie Leaders asked, and once again Clarisse redirected her attention back to the table and her current company. Looking down, she was mildly surprised to see that her cup held coffee as opposed to tea.

"No, thank you." She replied with a smile, trying to figure out what it was she was going to do. It wasn't that she didn't like coffee, quite the opposite actually. It was more that coffee didn't particularly agree with her. This said though, she didn't want to cause trouble for get the nervous young girl who had served her and certainly didn't want to be the cause of her failing her badge. Her decision made, Clarisse decided to enjoy her coffee and this rare opportunity, to actually talk with some of her, or rather Mia's, subjects.

"So, how long have you been working with this particular unit, Mrs Cowen?" She asked, taking a mouthful and savouring it.

Less than half an hour later, she was beginning to regret her decision. She was chuckling at an anecdote that one of the other women was telling about one of her Brownies, when the precursory distortion appeared to the right side of her visual field. Despite the unpleasantness that it was a harbinger to, she had always thought that the distortion itself was quite beautiful, the string of light reminiscent of the aurora borealis.

"Good morning, ladies." Joseph said, from her right, before going to a nearby table and stealing a chair, and sitting down beside her. She blinked to try to clear he sight before smiling warmly at him, relief flooding through her for no particular reason. Before she could even say hello, one of the girls scurried over to take his order.

"Oh – can I have a glass of orange squash please?" He asked and the Brownie in question smiled and nodded before disappearing. "Those young boys have worn me out. I am getting far too old for this." He declared with a mock sigh, causing their companions to chuckle.

One of the other women in charge approached with a quiet question and the three of them were distracted long enough for Clarisse to say hello to her husband. "Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Yes actually – and they're going to make a fortune if my empty pockets are anything to go by."

"Good." she replied, as the aura wove in front of Joseph's face. She blinked again trying to shift the distortion and ignore the throbbing pain that was beginning to build in her right temple.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly, leaning in towards her and sliding a hand across her lower back.

"Fine." she replied, offering him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He didn't look convinced though and when he reached across the table towards the array of cakes and biscuits, he obviously saw the half a mouthful of liquid left in the bottom of her cup.

"Coffee?" he mouthed, with an enquiring look.

"It's a long story."

"How's the head?" She couldn't bring herself to lie to him, and if the pounding behind her eye was anything to judge by, then there wasn't going to be any point. She smiled softly, but knew that he understood.

"Do you want to leave?" He asked, searching her eyes so that she felt like an open book.

"We're due to leave in about ten minutes anyway, aren't we? Let's not create a fuss." she said, slipping a hand down on to his knee to give it a gentle squeeze. He didn't look convinced but his 'waitress' had just reappeared with a tall, iced glass of orange squash and as their companions turned back to the table, he didn't say anything more.

Clarisse did her best to smile at appropriate moments, to follow the conversation and ask pertinent questions over the next five minutes. She was struggling though. She had to resist the urge to screw her eyes up against the sunlight that barely half an hour ago had been so comforting and the pleasant noise of children at play grated against her raw nerves. Having drunk his juice, Joseph had excused himself again and Clarisse couldn't have been more pleased to see him when he returned.

"I'm afraid that our car has just arrived," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "and I am going to have to steal my lovely wife away from you if she's going to make her lunch appointment." There was no denying it. Joseph would have made a stunning diplomat. Was making a stunning diplomat more accurately, and whether he had been good at manipulating people or not she would have loved him anyway, and certainly never more so than at that moment. She would also be eternally grateful for the fact that she had done the speech making and socialising before they had sat down for refreshments, as even the mention of lunch was enough to make her stomach drop ominously.

Joseph knew that it was closer to twenty minutes before they were scheduled to leave for lunch at the Spanish embassy, and although he couldn't be certain how bad this attack was going to be, he had seen enough in the past to suspect that if they waited much longer, then despite her protests, Clarisse was going to be in no fit state to walk out of the hall, never mind attend lunch. She had begun to experience these attacks first when Rupert had fallen ill, while she had been surviving from day to day without nearly enough sleep, trying to combine her role helping Philippe to run the country and still nursing her dying husband through the night. Though she had been quite easily diagnosed, it had taken them longer to establish what was most likely to trigger an attack. In the end, however, they had learned that coffee and spirits, along with the letdown from particularly stressful circumstances, were the worst offenders. The dietary elements were relatively easily dealt with, and as the stress related episodes progressed more slowly and were easier for both Charlotte and himself to predict, they usually managed to stop them from becoming too bad, even if they had to force Clarisse's hand. In any case, it had been more than a year since he'd last seen her fall prey to one, and longer than that since they hadn't been able to curtail the episode by dosing her up with painkillers and sending her to bed for a few hours barely before it had begun.

This said, Joseph wasn't sure exactly why Clarisse would voluntarily have exposed herself to perhaps the worst of her triggers. However, he was sure that she had had what she thought was a good reason as she certainly was not a sadist. Whatever the reason, she had drunk the coffee and now, watching her, he could see that she was paying the price. Having finished his juice, he stood, squeezed Clarisse's shoulder gently and went in search of Michael, their guard for the day. The younger man was standing at the other side of the room, in a position, Joseph noted with reassurance that allowed him to watch over proceedings but would allow him a relatively clear path to his charge.

"Sir." the young man said, as he approached.

"My name is Joe, Michael." he corrected automatically. "Could you have the car brought round now please?" he asked.

"Of course, Joe." Michael said, lifting his sleeve to his mouth, before heading towards the door. Joseph thought about his next move carefully. He knew that for safety reasons, they didn't carry anything stronger than paracetamol and regular strength ibuprofen in the cars, neither of which would have touched Clarisse's headache, even if she had taken them straight off. Joseph also knew that there was nothing more than a handkerchief, a lipstick and a mirror in the clutch bag that sat on her knee. It was at times like this when he missed having the ever present, ever prepared Charlotte around. The younger woman was still ostensibly in charge of their schedules and was seeing to both of the Queens' needs with the help of her newly expanded staff but naturally was no longer at Clarisse's side permanently.

When Michael appeared at the doorway and gave him a short nod to say that the car had arrived, Joseph returned to the table where Clarisse was sitting. As he excused them, he noticed, though he doubted that anyone else would have, that her face had paled and she was relying on her polite smile, as opposed to the genuine one from earlier, to carry her through. Standing behind her, he pulled out her chair, ready to help her should she need it. But she stood and said goodbye with the grace he had come to expect of her over the years. They made it across the room without too much trouble, for which he was eternally grateful and, approaching the door, Joseph slipped his arm around Clarisse's waist. As they stepped out into the bright summer sunlight, he saw her close her eyes for a moment and take a slow shallow breath.

"Ok?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes." she replied, equally softly before starting off at a sedate pace along the short path to the road. Michael opened the door for Clarisse and, once he had seen her seated, Joseph walked around and let himself in the other side. As he sat and pulled the door closed, he turned back to his wife and for the first time since he had joined her table, he saw her mask slip. She had her eyes closed and her head had fallen back against the seat. Reaching out, he took hold of one of her hands that had been balled at her side.

"That bad?" he asked, running his thumb gently over the back of his hand.

"I'll be fine…" she murmured. " Just give me a minute." Joseph wasn't buying this, however, and when a car driving past sounded its horn and she visibly flinched, he decided enough was enough.

"Peter – We'll go straight back to the Palace please." He said to the driver, as Michael climbed in and shut his door again, causing Clarisse to tense again.

"But I've…" she began to protest, but paused to press her hand to her head.

"Clarisse," he began quietly, as she leaned forward in her seat and he rubbed soft circles across her back. "let's be practical. We've got nothing here but standard strength paracetamol and ibuprofen and you and I both know that they're going to do nothing to lift this." he entreated, knowing that though she hated to admit it, even this most stubborn of women knew there was no way she was going to be able to sit through a four course lunch in the garden of the Spanish embassy and make polite conversation about the latest Picasso showing in Madrid. "Let's just get you home, hey?" he added softly.

"'K." Came the barely audible reply. Looking up, Joseph nodded to Peter who was watching them in the rear view mirror.

The car started with a soft purr, and Joseph slid up the privacy screen as Clarisse reached blindly for her seatbelt and clicked it in all without opening her eyes fully. Joseph reached under his seat and, pushing the sliding fridge door open, managed to find a bottle of water. Opening the cap, he held it out in a silent offering to his wife but she shook her head a fraction giving him a good idea of quite how bad she was feeling. Putting the lid back on, he placed the cool bottle against the back of her neck, holding it there with one hand while he fished his mobile out with the other.

"Thank you." Clarisse whispered and Joseph felt his heart constrict. He really wished that there were something he could actually do to make her feel better but at the moment his hands were pretty much tied. "I think I must have forgotten how horrible…" she began after a moment. "She brought the wrong thing and I didn't want to…"

"Shhh." He urged her, knowing that getting upset about it now was likely to only make her feel worse.

"Joseph?" Charlotte's voice suddenly appeared from his handset and he realised he must have dialled the programmed number without thinking about it.

"Hello Charlotte, I just wanted to let you know that we're coming back. If you could cancel the rest of this afternoon's engagements? And send our apologies to the Spanish Ambassador…" He spoke quietly and calmly.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, and Joseph could almost see her writing notes and handing them to her underlings for them to carry out.

"Clarisse isn't terribly well. Migraine." he put it succinctly, knowing that Charlotte had the discretion not to question him further at that point in time. "We shouldn't be more than ten minutes now." he added, looking out of the tinted window trying to establish where they were.

"Well, I'll see you when you get back, and don't worry about anything else. We'll deal with clearing your schedules and everything."

"Thanks." he said, hanging-up.

By the time that they rolled to a halt in front of the palace he was half convinced that if he'd handed Clarisse a loaded pistol and told her that putting it up to the side of her head and pulling the trigger it would make her feel better, she'd do it without a moment's hesitation. He waved away the footman that had opened the door for her and squatted down so that he could look at her properly.

"Clarisse?"

"I know. Just…" he leaned in and unclipped her belt and carefully manoeuvred her arm out of it.

"Come on. It's not much further now." he encouraged softly. Her eyes were closed, but despite this, when she sat up out of the shade afforded her by the car she froze. Taking shallow breaths, she seemed to be fighting for control. Joseph took his sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them onto her face. "There you go. Beautiful." The corner of her mouth twitched at this but she didn't say a word. As Clarisse pushed herself upright, he slung an arm under her shoulders and helped her up. They made slow but steady progress up the stairs, Joseph guiding her as the staff were discrete enough to leave them alone. The interior of the Palace was cooler than outside, and he hoped that would help. He ended up all but carrying her up the stairs, but she seemed determined to at least keep an air of independence going until they reached the privacy of their suite. Felix opened the door for them, but didn't say a word and Joseph nodded his thanks as he ushered Clarisse through the doorway. It was dark as well as cooler in here; someone had drawn the heavy drapes across the windows in the sitting room. His thoughts were disrupted when his wife removed his sunglasses and thrust them in his direction before heading, somewhat unsteadily, through towards the bedroom. There was a knock at the door and Joseph pulled it open and signalled Charlotte to enter.

"I thought you might need these." she said, handing him a prescription bottle. "And I brought this, just in case..." she continued, producing a nasal spray. "It's the last one, but I've had Helen contact Dr Finlay to get a repeat prescription sorted out."

"Thank you." he replied, taking the spray. "I suspect that it's too late for the pills." As if on cue, the sound of the bathroom door slamming reached them. Charlotte grimaced.

"What happened?" She asked.

"One of the Brownies brought Clarisse coffee when she asked for tea and she was determined not to make a fuss so drank it."

"Oh dear." The PA said with a sigh.

"Well, she said it herself that perhaps she'd forgotten quite how bad they were."

"Well, I'll leave you to see to her for now, I've told Olivia and Pricilla to leave you be but if you need anything, just let me know."

"Thank you." he said again as the younger woman left.

Removing his jacket Joseph draped it over the back of the sofa, picked up the analgesics and the seratonin uptake inhibitor, and headed through to the bedroom. Quite uncharacteristically, Clarisse had abandoned her shoes and her cardigan where they fell and he picked them up, carrying them over to the Queen Anne chair by her dresser. The sound of retching from the bathroom confirmed his earlier suspicions and he poured a glass of water before knocking softly on the bathroom door. Without waiting for a reply, he pushed it open and stepped inside. The light was off and it was even darker in there than outside, so it took a moment for Joseph's eyes to adjust. He stayed silent, taking a clean facecloth and running it under the cool tap, ringing it almost dry before kneeling down next to his wife and placing it on the back of her neck. She was sitting on the floor, her legs tucked under her, arms folded on the rim of porcelain bowl and her head resting against the cool surface. He waited until she turned her head towards him and opened her eyes.

"Sorry." she almost breathed.

"Don't be silly." he replied, rubbing her back gently and shifting to place a chaste kiss on the top of her head. "Charlotte brought through your medication…"

"The spray?" she asked, with something akin to enthusiasm. He handed her the device but seeing her struggle to undo the wrapping took it and freed it from its plastic confines before handing it back. She used it with the air of an expert, snorting deeply once before changing nostrils and repeating the action. Unfortunately, this was enough for another wave of nausea to overcome her and leave her gagging again.

"That's it. You'll feel better soon." he muttered, taking the empty spray back and hoping that it was true.

After the heaving had passed, Joseph moved so that his back was against the wall and Clarisse was almost sitting on his knee. She leaned back against his chest and he wound his arms about her loosely. They sat like that for what must have been at least twenty minutes before she began to shift.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Better. Not so sick." She said, turning to rest her head in the crook of his neck.

"And the head?"

"Sill pounding." she admitted after a moment. "But I think I'd feel much more human if I could brush my teeth."

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange that." He said smiling and kissing her hair. "Think you can stand?" She replied in the affirmative and he helped her up and over to the sink. Using his recollection of where everything stayed, he managed to find what he needed despite the almost complete darkness.

"Thank you." she said, once they were done. Her voice sounded sleepy and her head was resting against him, as though it was almost too heavy for her to hold up on her own.

"Bed?" he asked.

"Please." she replied, turning and headed towards the door. Just after she stepped through though, she stopped.

"Clarisse?" He asked, wondering if they were taking things too fast.

"Sorry. Just sore." she replied as the moment seemed to pass.

"Do you want to take something else?" he asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I uhh… yes. Yes." she said finally, rubbing her forehead.

"Well, let's get you into your pyjamas first, shall we?" he said rhetorically, knowing how much she disliked sleeping in her clothes. It was almost like undressing a doll, not that he had much experience at that, but Clarisse seemed to be more than willing to let him take care of her like this. He slipped her sleeveless silk blouse over her head before unzipping her skirt and sliding it over her hips. Once she was dressed again in her favourite white cotton nightwear, he stepped back in to the bathroom to retrieve the bottle of painkillers and the glass of water he had taken through earlier. Joseph knew that it was perfectly fine for her to take the analgesics in addition to the inhibitor, especially if her headache was going to take time to lift. However, he also knew what the results were likely to be. On the other hand, he was fairly certain that if she were to sleep through till tomorrow morning, it would probably be for the best. "One or two?" he asked, handing her the glass and unscrewing the cap on the bottle.

"Two. Please." she replied, holding her hand out. He watched as she swallowed them carefully, taking several sips before allowing him to take the glass from her. She pulled back the coverlet and he stood to let her lie down. She did so slowly, and he pulled the sheet up around her.

"Can I do anything else for you?" he asked, perching on the edge of the mattress.

"No. Thank you." she murmured, quite plainly almost asleep. "Stay?" she added after a moment.

"Of course, Love." he replied, reaching out to gently stroke the hair out of her face. She sighed lightly under his ministrations, settling further into the pillow and pulling the sheet closer around her. Joseph sat there until her breathing evened out, the last of the tension slipped from her shoulders and he could be sure that she had finally fallen asleep.

Amelia had spent all morning in Parliament, trying her best to stop them from arguing over anything too pedantic.

"Thank you Sebastian." she said, turning to the Prime Minister as they left the chamber.

"Not at all, Your Majesty." he replied, "your help, as always, was most appreciated. I only hope your insight into the diplomatic papers we need to address over lunch is quite as useful." Mia smiled indulgently at this.

"Well, we can always hope." She replied, as she spotted Charlotte from across the hall.

"Your Majesty. Prime Minister." the other woman said as she approached.

"If you'd be kind enough to give us a moment?" Mia asked.

"Of course. Ladies." he said, clipping his heels together and backing off to speak with his own assistant.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, seeing that Charlotte was obviously distracted.

"Queen Clarisse and Joseph have just returned from the fete. Your Grandmother has taken a Migraine." Mia made a face.

Although she had only once ever seen her Grandmother have an attack, it was something that stuck in her mind. She had been visiting over the summer holidays, and had been trying to learn what she could from watching the Queen 'do her thing' at a United Nations conference that Genovia was hosting. Not everything had quite gone to plan and her Grandmother had ended up running herself ragged trying to patch up differences and build bridges between the delegates in the last few days. She had been successful in the end, though it had been a last minute thing over brandies at the end of the closing dinner. The following morning she had gone for breakfast in her Grandmother's suite and had been quite surprised to find her somewhat distracted and with the attention span of the average goldfish. Though she had brushed off Mia's enquiry by saying something about 'a bit of a headache' Amelia hadn't bought it for a minute. When Charlotte had arrived to go over the schedule, the younger woman had looked the Queen over and reached for something in her pocket.

"I thought you might be needing these this morning, Your Majesty." she had said.

It was the only time that Mia could recall her Grandmother ever being bowed by anything. She had seen the older woman work through horrific colds and overcome serious jetlag, she had even seen her hide her tears when she had found Joseph's resignation on her desk and do everything in her power to help her. But that day she had taken the bottle, swallowed two pills and excused herself to go and lie down. That in itself had been more than enough to tell Mia just how uncomfortable these episodes could be for her Grandmother.

"Joseph's with her?" Mia asked, glancing back towards the Prime Minister before turning back to Charlotte.

"Yes. She was quite… unwell when I left, but I took up her medications so hopefully those should help." Mia nodded, chewing her lip and wondering if her Grandmother would be able to keep the painkillers down, knowing how little she cared for the nasal spray. "If you don't mind me saying, Ma'am…" Charlotte continued. "…I think we'd be better leaving them be. At least for a while."

"Your probably right," Mia admitted. "I had better deal with these papers now anyway if I'm going to have make polite conversation over dinner with the Italian Representative. I swear that man only ever comes so that he can eye-up Grandma. He's going to be sorely disappointed tonight." she added with a soft smile. "Right well, I'll take Sebastian out into the Garden for lunch I think."

"These are your files." Charlotte said, returning her smile had handing over a bundle of papers. "I'll have lunch sent out to you presently."

There was a gap in Mia's schedule once she and Sebastian were done and before she had to submit to her ladies' maid's whims in order to get ready for the State Dinner. Signing the last of the papers with a flourish, she put the lid on her fountain pen and let out a sigh. Standing, she stretched her back and headed for the door. Passing Helen, one of Charlotte's assistants, she told her that she had finished with today's boxes and that if she were needed she'd be in her Grandparents' suite. When she got there, she knocked softly on the door before opening it and leaning her head into their living room. Joseph looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa reading by the sunlight and smiling beckoned her in.

"Hey. I just wanted to check how Grandma was doing." She said, her voice hushed. "Charlotte said she was pretty bad."

"She was quite sick just after we got back, but she took the inhalant which helped lift her headache enough to lessen the nausea and let her stomach some painkillers. She's been sleeping for a couple of hours now and that's the best thing for her when she's like this."

"Well, that's good, I guess. What brought it on though?"

"She drank a cup of coffee one of the Brownies brought over instead of tea. Didn't want to make a fuss."

"That sounds familiar." she replied with a smile. Mia supposed that given that the former Queen had undoubtedly spent most of her life with people running around her ready to fulfil her every whim, it was quite strange that she was so reluctant to inconvenience them in any great way. She knew what each of her staffs' jobs were and was loathed to ask them to do something that she felt wasn't their responsibility. She was jolted out of her thoughts when the bedroom door opened. Turning, Mia saw her Grandmother standing in the doorway, fastening the sash of her robe that if she was not mistaken was, totally uncharacteristically, inside-out.

"I thought I heard Mia's voice." she said quietly to Joseph.

"I'm right here." Amelia replied waving, as the other woman turned to look at her as though she were seeing her for the first time.

"Hello darling!" the older woman said, offering her a genuine smile. Mia was more than slightly thrown by this though. "How are you?"

"Me? Oh I'm just fine." She began, glancing at her step-grandfather for guidance. "I was just about to tell Joseph that the Italian Trade-rep is going to be devastated that you won't be at dinner. I'm going to have to work extra hard with him now, to make up for the absence of your natural charm." She added lightly.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Clarisse said, finally stepping out of the doorway where she had been leaning up against the jamb. As the former Queen walked towards her, her path somewhat circuitous, Mia's suspicions about how strongly the medication she had taken was affecting her Grandmother still, were only reaffirmed. "You know…" the older woman began, looking straight at Mia for a moment. "you have very pretty eyes."

"Thank you." Mia said, smiling. Not sure what else she could really say.

"Anyway, I really am feeling much better now. I'm sure I could manage some _charming_ this evening." She said as if it was a perfectly sensible idea, which Mia supposed it probably was in her head. It was almost like she was drunk. Or possibly stoned. Not that she had ever seen her Grandmother drunk never mind under the influence of illicit substances. This thought amused her somewhat, but despite this, there was no denying that the older woman was away with the faeries. "Besides," she continued without a care in the world. "I'd hate to leave my Granddaughter in the lurch." And with that Mia found herself being hugged quite unceremoniously. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her Grandmother, but looked over the other woman's shoulder in order to catch Joseph's eye. He stood and came up behind his wife and wrapped his hands around her waist pulling her gently backwards and turning her around to face him.

"Hey there beautiful." He said, catching her as her balance failed.

"Joseph! What are you doing here?" she said, seeming suddenly surprised to see him. "You should go. Mia and I have to get ready for dinner." She continued, cocking her head to one side and shaking a finger at him.

"Now let's not be hasty, Love." he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and heading back towards the settee. "I know you're feeling better, but I still think that the best thing for you would be to head back to bed." he said, sitting down and pulling his wife with him.

"But I… I have to… dinner… Mia…" she was obviously quite frustrated and upset, her Grandmother's mood having changed so abruptly that it unnerved Mia. "I have to be at dinner Joseph. I… I was stupid… I shouldn't have… I can't let Mia down…" she was almost sobbing now and the sight of Joseph trying to comfort her touched Amelia's heart.

"Now just you shush there." he urged, holding her close. "We had this conversation before. It might not have been the most intelligent thing you have ever done, but there is absolutely no point in getting upset about it now." He handed her a tissue, and helped her dry her face.

"It's alright Grandma," Amelia said, walking round and perching on the occasional table in front of them. "I'll manage just fine. Just you concentrate on getting better, huh?" The other woman nodded and sniffed a little, her head still resting on Joseph's shoulder.

"Could you pass me that glass?" Joe asked her quietly, gesturing to the glass of water next to her. She did as he asked, and watched as he helped his wife take several slow mouthfuls to help calm her down.

"How about we get you back to bed Clarisse?" he suggested softly. "You must be sleepy now." He added, and Mia couldn't help but marvel at the way he handled her as the other woman nodded again. Her eyes were drooping, and it seemed that the sedative effects of the medications were taking control again.

At Joseph's signal, Mia stepped forward and helped him hoist her Grandmother upright. The three of them made their way towards the bedroom, taking slow steps as they guided Clarisse through the door. It was pitch-black and Mia had to rely on Joseph to stop from walking into anything as her eyes adjusted.

"Now let's get you out of this…" Joseph said, undoing the sash of her dressing gown while Mia helped to balance her. Once her Grandmother was lying down she watched as Joseph tucked in the sheets around her before kissing her gently on the forehead. "Sleep well, My Love."

"I love you, Grandma." Mia said, leaning down to kiss her as well. Her eyes were drifting shut and she couldn't resist stroking her hair gently, rubbing her cheek with her thumb for a moment before she stood again. Joseph was standing by the door, holding it open for her and she smiled at him as she walked across the room.

"Jos'ph?" her Grandmother's voice said drowsily just before they shut the door.

"Yes, Clarisse?" he replied, opening it back up.

"No more coffee." she mumbled, before turning her head into the pillow. Amelia couldn't help but smile at this and Joseph chuckled lightly as he responded.

"Yes darling, no more coffee. " And with that they shut the door behind them and left her to sleep right through until the following morning.

**A/N: **thank you to my fabby beta RevSue! please do review as I absolutely love it!

xLx


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